I see that I haven’t written since my birthday. Well, just haven’t had anything to say. I haven’t been in the greatest of moods either. Group kind of sucked last week. I haven’t been doing my mindfulness meditation. Just haven’t felt like it.

Sometimes the whole thing doesn’t really seem to be worth it. Like, I’m not going to feel better so why even try.

I have been going over my childhood in therapy the last few weeks. Nothing in particular has been upsetting to me about it. It’s all just been kind of matter of fact. I used to cry a lot about my abuse, my parents dying, knowing nothing about my birth family, and my Aunt and Uncle kicking me out of the family. Now I don’t ever cry about it, which I suppose is a good thing, but I still am holding onto anger that I need to let go of. So, besides the moments of anger and contempt, I sometimes think it’s hard to believe it was me. It’s almost surreal. When I step outside myself, I think “how terrible for that child”. When I come back to me, I think “how the hell did I survive all that?” I want to know how and why I survive it now.

Quit being such a baby about it!

Lately I haven’t really felt too much, at least nothing very positive. Nothing more than the occasional anger and anxiety. I’m feeling like nothing is working right now. How many more meds can I be on? It sure seems sometimes that I had it right before. Drinking and drugs. We talked about that in group, the things we use to get away, to escape. Ya!, let’s go back to that! Sure was easier not to think and feel.